Friday, March 30, 2012
I wonder if this poet thing is some grand delusion. Like yes, I could be being hyperbolic here, but I'm really not - I honestly wonder if I don't consider myself as such because I'm riding the heights of trying to satisfy a delusion. I was thinking over my career in poetry and yeah...I don't know. It just seems like I got put into the role a little after high school with that crazy group of friends and all of the joy that brought was what I was seeking with every poem I made afterward, even though neither the poems nor the populace was capitulating. So I wonder if I want to actually do that for a living, or just want that kind of attention again, and if that kind of attention is a passing thing that you only meet once in your life before you're talking about it on blogs with four grey hairs in your beard, but really if it's just a think I can do it so do it etc etc...I guess this is getting convoluted. What I want to exfoliate is that I can't really recall actively wanting to be there writing them, or actively wanting to be reading them to audiences, or etc. I just wanted to be super poet man, which seems symptomatic of my illness more than of a desire for a place in life. If I think of what I want to be, I get what I always get, which is: nothing. It's not very socially desirable to be nothing, but I don't want to be a part of your system, so I threw it on the ground. Honestly. I don't know how this would have changed if I didn't contract schizophrenia from that bird but since I've had to think about it, which was just slightly before the schizophrenia kicked in, I've wanted to be nothing. A philosopher, if anything, but doing nothing. No, that's it: a philosopher. Although I don't think I would ever have asked for a university education in philosophy, I just want to do it on porches with friends of a similar mind and see what doesn't come up. So perhaps the poetry wasn't all a failure - I got to philosophize some, and more I got to tell a little story that I think needed telling, but I don't think it's a poet's life for me. I can almost feel the waves of disgust rolling over me in this our society of what you are is what you're worth but I still want to be a nothing porch philosopher, fuck it all. Could be that punk rock music. Related videoblog here:http://www.youtube.com/watchv=kNermBeyQeY&feature=youtu.be
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
So the videoblogs are not as popular as I had hoped they would be. I wanted to be a famous on-screen personality. Perhaps I'll make new ones as the old ones get views, and just mostly stick to writing. I talked to my friends and they're going to let me stay here while my disability hearing goes before a judge, up and until, without paying rent. So shouts to them, new friends are still friends. My mom officially cannot work this site, which means I can talk about her, and so; I'm worried that I'll do the thing she does/has done in her life and leave people behind. Like perhaps it's inevitable and people just move on etc etc but I'd like to believe you can create semi-permanent relationships, death trumping all. I still have an old friend or two that I get into contact with on occasion and I'd like to think that if there were a gathering of old friends we'd all be happy together and not weird, but who knows. I really want to veer from meeting people and barely getting to know them and then letting them shoot by. Like losing a person you have a great connection with and know fiercely is almost less bad than letting someone you could know that well escape, even if you want that death-trump-only-type. At least you had the experience with the first. Maybe my mom's move is her own and she's a rambler or maybe it's how it goes for everyone or just some people or whatever but what I want to promote is serious relationships brimming with intelligent conversation and killforeachother, and these take time to create and sometimes last quite a while and sometimes fizzle out. I think I just talked a circle there but it helped me put down the idea that I'm just friend-jumping, and bring me into the reality that I look for quality relationships, even if sometimes they are lacking.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
I got really mad at my friends today because they wouldn't buy me dinner even though I could pay them back in a week and while I was stewing and they were out eating I thought that life should be a shotgun blast of beauty, nay multiple, crecendicious, and that I shouldn't freak out about missing dinner. I got to thinking about what I think is beautiful, and about what my role should be in creating beautiful things, and I basically thought the word beauty a bunch of times while lying on the couch and I came up with the old 'Whatever happens happens' answer, that to strive for it is fine, if you desire, but to find it when it comes up is equally fine. You can only hope it's crecendicious. Still, this is fine, even if there's no bullet train to the crescendo at least there's some more koan in something, which is always a bit beautiful.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
New video uploaded, a poem this time! I don't plan to make a habit of this because I feel like a big failure right now but I wanted to give it a run and I'm having fun with my video editing software so why the fuck not? Also, I explained in the youtube portion, but will explain here as well: there is a part where I am going uhm quite a lot during the poem, and it's not due to nerves or inexperience reading, but to the fact that I had to change a few things up to get it to readable from the formatting it had as a poem to be read on the page. So I hope you don't think I'm a noob, although haven't I been calling myself a noob for a bunch of posts?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwSx52HkCZ4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwSx52HkCZ4
Schizophrenia dominates my thought content with fist of iron. I am intrigued by the 10 year high school reunion that is happening this year, but not as much by the 20 that will tell me which females got the Bentley of mental illnesses and who I want to spend the four years after that with until I pledge fealty to the trigger of the shotgun. I'm not really aggrandizing - I want to meet this woman, desperately. There's something unfair about being unable to share your gigantic ouchie with literally anyone you meet, and you even wonder if that person in the mental health clinic has it or just some Pinto disease. I feel my car metaphors aren't fully understandable and probably are not even palatable to the general public, and that's really what gets me. That and the schizophrenia.
Anyways, I feel like I shouldn't define myself by this thing, but if you were a Jigsaw victim would you not want to attend meetings with fellow....that one was in 3D, plus the Dread Pirate Roberts kicked so much ass...but yeah. So back to the high school thing - I have a feeling I wont be attending, because all I can tell people is "Got my mind fucked, failed at everything because, am mostly a layabout and medicated to Egypt now" and hold on, I have to do a major aside, schizophrenia is exactly why I went nowhere with my life but here. I feel completely comfortable saying that, because it's true. If my mind wasn't bleeding, I'd probably be in a career somewhere, post college - the art not passing is another story, although who knows if brainbleed nuked my poetical senses. I don't think so, there, because again I think I do rather well for myself, I just can't really get it to the level it needs to be at the moment and I don't know when I ever will. It's like outpitching all of the minor league pitchers, etc etc. But back to the high school thing. Going, not going? I feel like I have no stake in the outcome, and I've already hung out with friends who have completed college and that feels awesome so it seems like negative stake in the outcome and what else, punch? The 20 year though, I am Rambo for that shit. If you're reading this and female and in my graduating class and you don't clean up much and forget to brush your teeth occasionally I'll see you in ten goddamn years when we have something to talk about, like flopping about like a fish on a floor with your hands around your head and thrashing and and and.
Okay, so that was fun. I now must justify myself. You know how you build worlds of fantasy as a child, like man I wish I were an X-man or holy shit wouldn't it be nice if some of these stories I was reading were read by someone else and we could talk about them. Regular fantasies. It's hard for me to describe, actually, but like just the regular functioning of the mind that goes "I wonder if this person would like this novel" or etc. Well anyway, you begin to build for yourself a group of people who you want to have around you based on things like this....oh he's a good chess player, oh he stomps me at go...and while you hang out with whoever, you build relationships around stuff like that. I just feel like I have a big thing to share and I could go places sharing it and am biting my fingers until I actually can. There, justified, mostly. Uh...there's more to it, really. It's still rather hard to describe, but you tend to exclude people who you don't think fit into your little scheme, and etc, and to dirty little secret I do that a little obsessively. I guess it's perhaps apparent from the rest of the article. It's part "sorry, it's hard to help" and part overwhelming obsession with the disease itself and the function and it makes someone sexy, desirable etc, because of all that. There's this Jung story where he gets the hallucinations to stop emanating from one side of the woman he's treating's body and she says something like you've taken away my beautiful dream or something, I have no quotation marks because I don't know the exactsies, but yeah. Like as awful as the thing is and as much as you want to turn it off you get good hallucinations too and I think most importantly you get a sense of being in this elite club that like you can stare at someone and with your eyes go "you have no fucking idea" and it's actually true.
So two things - One, I don't want anywhere to suggest that I hope this happens to somebody. Disclaimed. Two - What I'm trying to get at with most of the above is a point of extreme interest to me which is this feeling of being completely disconnected from the workings of the people around me, even when we're talking or engaged in some group activity. Like I am so far and gone from this land they inhabit and yet I am positive I convince them I'm in the same cloudspace because they just don't know about where I could be. I want people to know about that, because it's interesting, and because if we hang out you have that to watch out for, and because I really want to connect in the weird cloudspace, so try and find me there. Hahahaha that's so cute, I think, like perhaps Jim Carey could do that line in my autobio when I'm dead of brilliance and pill overdose and people want an autobio because Jim Carey does that weird shit like Dr. Mundo's exploratorium longskinnyfingersbeard.
Anyways, I feel like I shouldn't define myself by this thing, but if you were a Jigsaw victim would you not want to attend meetings with fellow....that one was in 3D, plus the Dread Pirate Roberts kicked so much ass...but yeah. So back to the high school thing - I have a feeling I wont be attending, because all I can tell people is "Got my mind fucked, failed at everything because, am mostly a layabout and medicated to Egypt now" and hold on, I have to do a major aside, schizophrenia is exactly why I went nowhere with my life but here. I feel completely comfortable saying that, because it's true. If my mind wasn't bleeding, I'd probably be in a career somewhere, post college - the art not passing is another story, although who knows if brainbleed nuked my poetical senses. I don't think so, there, because again I think I do rather well for myself, I just can't really get it to the level it needs to be at the moment and I don't know when I ever will. It's like outpitching all of the minor league pitchers, etc etc. But back to the high school thing. Going, not going? I feel like I have no stake in the outcome, and I've already hung out with friends who have completed college and that feels awesome so it seems like negative stake in the outcome and what else, punch? The 20 year though, I am Rambo for that shit. If you're reading this and female and in my graduating class and you don't clean up much and forget to brush your teeth occasionally I'll see you in ten goddamn years when we have something to talk about, like flopping about like a fish on a floor with your hands around your head and thrashing and and and.
Okay, so that was fun. I now must justify myself. You know how you build worlds of fantasy as a child, like man I wish I were an X-man or holy shit wouldn't it be nice if some of these stories I was reading were read by someone else and we could talk about them. Regular fantasies. It's hard for me to describe, actually, but like just the regular functioning of the mind that goes "I wonder if this person would like this novel" or etc. Well anyway, you begin to build for yourself a group of people who you want to have around you based on things like this....oh he's a good chess player, oh he stomps me at go...and while you hang out with whoever, you build relationships around stuff like that. I just feel like I have a big thing to share and I could go places sharing it and am biting my fingers until I actually can. There, justified, mostly. Uh...there's more to it, really. It's still rather hard to describe, but you tend to exclude people who you don't think fit into your little scheme, and etc, and to dirty little secret I do that a little obsessively. I guess it's perhaps apparent from the rest of the article. It's part "sorry, it's hard to help" and part overwhelming obsession with the disease itself and the function and it makes someone sexy, desirable etc, because of all that. There's this Jung story where he gets the hallucinations to stop emanating from one side of the woman he's treating's body and she says something like you've taken away my beautiful dream or something, I have no quotation marks because I don't know the exactsies, but yeah. Like as awful as the thing is and as much as you want to turn it off you get good hallucinations too and I think most importantly you get a sense of being in this elite club that like you can stare at someone and with your eyes go "you have no fucking idea" and it's actually true.
So two things - One, I don't want anywhere to suggest that I hope this happens to somebody. Disclaimed. Two - What I'm trying to get at with most of the above is a point of extreme interest to me which is this feeling of being completely disconnected from the workings of the people around me, even when we're talking or engaged in some group activity. Like I am so far and gone from this land they inhabit and yet I am positive I convince them I'm in the same cloudspace because they just don't know about where I could be. I want people to know about that, because it's interesting, and because if we hang out you have that to watch out for, and because I really want to connect in the weird cloudspace, so try and find me there. Hahahaha that's so cute, I think, like perhaps Jim Carey could do that line in my autobio when I'm dead of brilliance and pill overdose and people want an autobio because Jim Carey does that weird shit like Dr. Mundo's exploratorium longskinnyfingersbeard.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
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